


The Adventures of Ronald Weasley

by turin411



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 20,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22518649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turin411/pseuds/turin411
Summary: A re-imagining of Deathly Hallows from the POV of Harry Potter's stupid friend. (His words, not mine).
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Voldemort, Charlie Weasley/Mystery Character, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Comments: 16
Kudos: 53





	1. THE LOCKET

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Evitative](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20049589) by [Vichan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vichan/pseuds/Vichan). 



I THE LOCKET

Ron Weasley was not a happy camper. Sitting in the entrance to the tent he currently shared with his girlfriend Hermione and his best friend Harry, he was cold, bored, anxious, and angry. He could hear Hermione & Harry talking inside. Not the specific words, but a general ebb & flow of conversation, which had been going on for over an hour now. He couldn't help but feel that they liked each other more than either of them liked him. His mind wandered to a scenario that he had been trying to ban from his mind, an image of his two friends bonding with each other & shutting him out. It was just a matter of time, he felt, until Hermione realized she had made a big mistake in beginning a relationship with him, a clumsy ginger with a big nose who was not terribly intelligent. Why would she choose him over The Boy Who Lived, handsome, charming, famous, rich? It was just a matter of time.

'Stop that,' he told himself as he had so many times in the past weeks, 'you know better than that. They wouldn't do that.' But sometimes his mind and his heart disagreed, and usually the heart won the argument. The sixth of seven children, Ron was used to being overlooked. He knew he was loved by his family, he never questioned that, but he'd always felt that there was nothing particularly special about himself. He was defined more by the people around him, less by anything inherent.

As he thought these things, his heart filling with the poison of insecurity, he absentmindedly fingered the oval locket he was currently guarding. It usually hung on its chain around his neck, but he'd often find it in his hands, with no conscious memory of taking it off. He hated it, despite its elegant, understated beauty. It held a piece of a dark lord's soul, the worst dark lord in any magical person's memory. Lord Voldemort. The three of them were traveling around the British Isles in an insane game of Keep-Away From Voldemort. They had to figure out how to destroy the damn thing before Voldemort discovered that they had it. So far they'd had zero luck, despite several attempts. It couldn't be blasted, burned, transfigured, or vanished. They had run through every idea that they could conjure (and Hermione had quite a few ideas more than he and Harry had). Ron had even tried the Killing Curse, Avada Kedavra, which caused the locket to glow a weak green for a few seconds but nothing more. Ron was despondent with this failure; he'd been hoping against all hope that he could make a real contribution to their efforts with that one. When it didn't work Harry had consoled him with the idea that Ron's inability to pull off a proper killing curse only said good things about Ron's character. That thought comforted Ron a bit, but only a bit.

Ron's reverie was interrupted by Hermione's voice. "Ron, can you come in here? Harry & I want to talk to you." 'Oh, great,' he thought, 'they finally bring me into the conversation. They've probably already decided what we do next and didn't feel a need to include me in the conversation.' He stood up, feeling every joint in his body creak from cold & disuse. Sitting on the ground in front of a tent will do quite a job on a guy's back, it turned out.

It was much warmer in the tent, which had been magically expanded to the size of a decent 2 bedroom apartment. From the outside it looked like a pup tent that would barely fit 2 people lying down. It was far from having all the comforts of home (Ron came from a very comfortable home, filled with wonderful smells from his mother's excellent cooking, and people coming and going constantly), but it was more than adequate to keep the three of them warm & dry. It even had a small stove, though Ron observed bitterly that they didn't get many chances to use it. Food had been an ongoing problem for the three.

As Ron approached his friends, he noticed a small tremor of apprehension pass between the two. Hermione's eyes snapped to his chest, where the locket should be hanging. "Ronald, where's the locket?" she said with an anxious look. He held it up for her to see. As she reached for it, Ron had a brief moment of hostility. 'She doesn't trust me with it,' the dark voice in his head said. His lips briefly curled into a snarl as he handed it over.

Immediately, he felt his hostility drop by half. It was a bit of relief to be done with his shift guarding it. He didn't notice Hermione's brow furrowing as he handed it over.

"We need to decide where we're going next," said Harry. "I think we should go somewhere close to Godric's Hollow, so we can check it out. Hermione thinks we should stay far away from there. What do you think?"

"I dunno, what ever, it doesn't seem to matter, does it?"

"Ron, don't you even care?" said Hermione in a small voice. There was a twinge on the left side of Harry's jaw as he steeled himself for the coming confrontation.

"It does matter, Ron. You know the stakes as well as we do. If we're found, we'll be brought straight to the nearest death eater, and that'll be the end for us. You-know-who will get the locket back & there'll be no chance of stopping him. We must keep that from happening."

"Yeah, but don't you feel like we're just spinning our wheels waiting until that happens? We haven't got a chance, and you know it. You both know it. We have at least three more of these horcrux things we need to find, and we've gotten nowhere near destroying this one."

"Yeah, well, we had an idea about that," said Harry. "If we can get our hands on the sword of Gryffindor, we should be able to do it. Hermione says that the sword might work, seeing as it would have absorbed basilisk venom from the Chamber of Secrets. It's one of the few things that could damage the locket beyond magical repair. It's worth a shot, don't you think?"


	2. THE FLIGHT

"I dunno how you think we're going to get the sword. We can't go back to Hogwarts while Snape is there."

"Well, that's what we need to puzzle out then, isn't it?" said Hermione with a snap in her voice.

"Great. Just one more thing to get against all odds. We haven't been doing very well so far, in case you didn't notice" Ron answered morosely.

"What the hell do you mean, Ron? We got the damn locket!"

"And we almost died in the process. My arm still hasn't fully healed from being splinched. Not to mention, the locket is the ONLY thing we've been able to get. Fat lot of good that's done us, too, seeing as we can't even put a scratch on it."

Ron saw Hermione and Harry exchange a glance. It seemed to Ron that they had already discussed him, were on the same page, and shutting him out...again. He was getting sick of the intimate little glances these two had been sharing lately.

"Ronald, we have to do something," said Hermione. "We can't just stay here forever. We'll be found, the locket will go back to You-know-who, and nobody will be able to stop him. So much rides on this, Ron. We thought you understood the stakes."

"Well don't be too damn sure about that, I'm just Harry Potter's stupid friend, aren't I? Not to mention, we've got the smartest witch who's ever waved a wand, if you can't come up with something, how the hell would I be able to?" he snarled at her.

Hermione put her hand to her forehead, as if shading her eyes from the sun. "Honestly, Ronald, this isn't helping one bit."

"It seems to me you two don't really need my help lately," Ron answered bitterly.

"Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Hermione's exasperation was rapidly turning into indignation.

Ron's words came out in a torrent, riding a wave of all the negativity that had been boiling inside him these last few weeks. "Every time I leave you two alone, you start whispering behind my back. Don't think I can't hear you. I may be stupid but I'm not deaf. And you always stop when I come into the room. What the hell is so secret that you can't talk about in front of me?"

"I can't talk to you at all when you get like this," answered Hermione.

"Oh, good job, dodging that question!" Ron's voice grew louder and louder. "I knew it was inevitable, I just didn't think it'd happen so soon. You fancy Harry, I know you do, don't try to deny it. Why else would you push me aside like this?"

"Now look here!" Harry finally joined the conversation. "You don't get to talk to her that way. Hermione's put up with a lot from you, Ron, why do you think she'd do that if she didn't care for you? I think you owe her an apology."

"Oh that's rich, coming from you. Here comes Sir Lancelot, riding in on his goddamn white horse, to rescue his damsel from the beastly Ron! You were supposed to be my best friend! But you won't stop until you've taken everything from me, will you?" Harry stared open-mouthed at Ron, torn between a desire to laugh or tear him a new one.

"You took my family from me, Harry! When you're around, I'm even more invisible to them than usual! Ginny used to be one of the few people who I could talk to, but not since you've started dating her. It's all Harry-this and Harry-that, we can't get her to pay attention to anything else! Now Hermione, too? You won't rest until I've shrunk down to NOTHING, will you? Greedy git!"

Harry froze as if ice were running through his veins. He couldn't recall ever being so angry with anybody. "How dare you, Ron. HOW DARE YOU!!!" Harry roared. "I've done nothing but be your friend, I've had your back even when you treated me like absolute SHITE...if you really think that of me, why are you even here? I'm just going to find something else to take from you, aren't I?"

"Harry, put the locket down!" said Hermione firmly. None of them recalled seeing him pick it up off of the small table, but Harry had the chain wrapped around his left hand so tight that his fingers were starting to go numb. "It makes all of us crazy, especially Ron. We mustn't start going after each other like this!"

Ron wasn't listening to Hermione, he was too busy trying to process what Harry had said to him. "Yeah, why am I even here?" he asked in a terrible, quiet voice. They all felt a tension in the air, a breathless presence waiting to rend the three of them apart.

Then the shoe dropped. Ron said, "I'm leaving. I know when I'm not wanted." He grabbed his knapsack, walked into the night, and apparated with a loud CRACK! sound.

"Ron! RON!!" Hermione ran after him, desperate tears welling in her eyes, but he was gone, and they had no way to go after him.


	3. THE CAPTURE

As Ron came tumbling out of his apparition, he crumpled to the ground and let out the tears that had been building for days. He couldn't believe he had just abandoned his two best friends - his only friends, as a matter of fact. 'Loser!' he berated himself, over and over. He felt entirely unworthy of their friendship. Wave after wave of sadness, regret, and pain washed over him, until he felt he couldn't breathe. His sad wailing grew louder & louder.

"Scabior, we got another one!" he heard a rough voice yell. With a shock, Ron ceased his crying, and quickly surveyed his location. He wasn't sure exactly where he was, he left in such a hurry he didn't really remember what was in his mind when he apparated. His first thought was that he might be somewhere near his family home outside the village Ottery-St. Catchpole, which would probably be the very worst place to turn up. Death eaters were certainly monitoring the area where his family's home was known to be, looking for Ron, Hermione, and Harry. He saw, and felt, cobblestones under his feet. That was a relief, as there was nothing but wheat fields & swamp within a few miles around his home. The second thought was Hogsmeade, which would be almost as bad. With Severus Snape as headmaster, there was certainly a watch set there, too. However, Hogsmeade had a quaint, whimsical air about it, houses that looked like gingerbread confections, shops with brightly colored signs outside and appealing items in the windows. As he looked around, he realized there was absolutely nothing appealing about this place. Through the damp, cold fog, he saw old run-down looking buildings, many with broken windows, as if nobody had attended their repair in many years. It looked like Knockturn Alley. SHIT. He saw no other people, but heard the sound of hard leather soles on the cobblestones of the street around the corner of the nearest building.

'You've really stepped in it now, haven't you, Ron?' As quietly as he could manage, Ron stood up, noticing a searing pain in his left foot. His recently splinched right arm, which hadn't fully healed yet, was throbbing dully. He hobbled as quickly as he could to the darkened doorway of the building he had landed in front of.

But he wasn't fast, or quiet, enough. Just as he was trying to melt into the darkness, he saw a man with long, scraggly hair running around the corner. It was braided at the bottom, leaving the top curly and unkempt, and he was wearing trousers with a Union Jack pattern. He reminded Ron of an 80s era pop star. "There he is!" the man yelled to his as yet unseen companions. His voice was slightly higher than the first one he had heard, with a Cockney accent.

He grabbed Ron by the collar of his jacket. "Well well, what have we here? What are you doing out so late, past curfew, ginger?" he smirked. Ron's mind whirled, trying to think of a plausible excuse to be alone in this area at this time of night.

"I was trying to get to the Leaky Cauldron, and I guess I, I must have gotten lost," Ron said rapidly. It was the best excuse he could come up with on the spot, and it sounded implausible even to him. "Can you point me in the right direction?" he asked weakly.

The man holding his arm laughed. "Now why would you be looking for the Cauldron? And where you coming from, huh ginger? There's a curfew, or haven't you heard? Are you daft? I heard you apparating in, you just got here. Now, let's try this again. Where you coming from?" The man had an unpleasant leer; at this close a distance, Ron could smell an unpleasant mixture of garlic and body odor.

"Uhhh, Hogwarts?" Again, the first thing that popped into his mind. Mentally Ron took stock of his ability to defend himself. He still had his wand in his hand. Trying not to show his movement, he twisted his wrist and yelled, "Expelliarmus!" He wasn't sure the wizard (Scabior, apparently) was even using a wand, but he couldn't think of anything else. Besides, it had worked for Harry against Voldemort....

To Ron's surprise, Scabior's hand flew off of Ron's arm and backwards with a sickening CRACK! Scabior screamed, "Ginger bastard broke my arm! WELLINGTON!"

Ron didn't wait to meet this Wellington, but took off running at top speed. He had no idea where he was going, or what he was going to do when he got there. He was surprisingly fast despite the now excruciating pain in his foot. In front of him, down the street, he heard a voice yell, "EL ESTE AL MEU!" A powerfully built man with shoulder length brown hair, wearing a long overcoat & black leather gloves, came striding up the street towards him and Scabior. Ron desperately looked for a way out, but he was caught between the two men.

"Lesch, what are you doing here?" Scabior said, his voice panicked. "You are supposed to be up in Diagon Alley patrolling!"

"Expunere propriu limba," the man said to Scabior, who wore a bemused expression on his face. "Limba! LIMBA!" the man shouted, holding out his own arm and pointing at it. Scabior turned his left arm toward Lesch, unable to hold it out as he was shown.

"Brackium Emendo," Lesch said calmly, pointing his wand at the smaller man's broken arm. Scabior let out a short yell, then started flexing his arm, which was completely healed. "Thanks, Lesch. And could you keep in mind, I don't speak fucking Romanian!"

"That's because you're idiot," Lesch said lazily in a thick accent. "Now hand roscovan to me. I collect bounty."

"I was the one who caught him!" Scabior whined. At that moment Ron first noticed three additional men had joined them. They all had an unkempt, dirty look, as if they hadn't bathed in a week. "Why would you collect the bounty?"

"Because, I can do this," Lesch said, blasting Scabior with a nonverbal spell Ron had never seen before. A flash of blue light pushed Scabior back, until his head hit the brick building behind him with a loud CRACK! Ron was also caught in this blue light, and was pushed backward. Fortunately Scabior cushioned his fall, so Ron was unhurt.

"WHAT THE HELL, LESCH!" Ron heard the man with the rough voice yell. Quick as a flash, Lesch used the same spell three more times, before the other men even had their wands out. All three of them flew back and did not get up.

"Hurry, get their wands before they wake up!" Lesch yelled to Ron in an American accent. Ron did as he was told, hobbling on his hurt foot. It felt like an eternity to get to them, but he managed to grab all four wands. By this time Lesch had reached Ron's side in front of the last of the men. Without a word, he grabbed Ron's arm, and apparated away.


	4. THE COTTAGE

Ron and Lesch landed in sand. As Ron looked around him, he saw that they were by the sea. In front of him was a small cottage, with seashells embedded in the mortar on its sides. There was soft light glowing in the windows. He still had no idea who this Lesch was, which side he was on, and why he had brought him here. For the moment he was too out of breath to ask.

"Welcome to Shell Cottage," said Lesch, still speaking with an American accent. "We'll be safe here for the time being." The two of them walked toward the cottage, Ron still limping.

Lesch opened the door to a small entryway that had a beautiful stained glass window bearing the Gryffindor crest above the front door. He smelled food; it was intoxicating after weeks of subsisting on rubbery stewed mushrooms and the occasional stolen eggs. Ron's mouth began to water. Lesch beckoned him to sit at the table in the kitchen - there didn't seem to be a dining room. He served Ron a bowl of steaming beef stew and a slice of bread, which Ron decided was his new favorite meal. It was almost as good as the stew his mother often made.

"That was close," said Lesch. "You've really got to be more careful, Ron. There's a bounty on your head. Every snatcher in England has your picture memorized."

"Uhhh, how do you know my name?"

"I've been keeping an eye out for you & your friends. Besides, anybody can tell you're a Weasley just by looking at you," he added with a smirk.

"Who are you, anyway?"

"A friend." Just then a familiar figure, short with a muscular chest & arms covered in burn scars, came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist & another one drying his bright red hair.

"Charlie!! I've never been so glad to see anyone in my whole life." Ron breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of his older brother, feeling the knot in his stomach start to loosen.

Lesch turned to Ron. "You seem to have a problem with one of your toes. Take off your shoe so I can get a look at it."

Ron did as he was told. He noticed with a shock that the tip of his left pinky toe was gone.

"You must have splinched it on the way in," said Lesch. "I can't grow it back, but I can heal it so it won't hurt quite as much." With another nonverbal spell, Ron's toe was healed over. The pain went down to a dull ache.

"Well done, Burns," said Charlie, while putting on a thick white bathrobe. "You always did have a knack for healing charms."

"Good thing for us, too, or you'd have lost both arms years ago," replied the man. Ron said, "What is your real name? I heard those foul men call you Lesch, but Charlie calls you Burns. What's up with that?"

"Lesch is my undercover name. My actual name is Barnes, but Charlie has called me Burns ever since we started working with dragons together in Romania . You think he has burns on his arms, yo should see mine. I was even more clumsy than Chuckie, which is saying a lot."

"You know I don't like it when you call me Chuckie," said Charlie. He walked over to Burns & put his arm around him. "You're lucky I love you, or you'd be in big trouble. Remember what happened to that Danish witch who called me that?" said Charlie. " Wonder if her nose hairs ever stopped growing?"

Burns gave a soft laugh & kissed Charlie on the forehead. The affection between the two men was palpable, adding to the feeling of warmth and safety the cottage exuded. Normally displays of affection made Ron uncomfortable, but he found these gestures comforting after so many weeks of anxiety & rancor.

"Where are Ron & Hermione?" asked Charlie.

Ron's face turned approximately the same shade of maroon as his jumper. "I, uh, I left them somewhere in a forest. I'm not sure where it is."

Burns' face grew incredulous. "You LEFT them?!? Why would you do that, Ron? You know it's not safe for the three of you anywhere in Britain, don't you?"

Again with people thinking Ron was stupid. No wonder his self esteem was so low. "We got into an argument. Those two were constantly talking behind my back. I think they fancy each other."

Charlie sighed. "You know better than that, Ron. I know I've only met them once or twice, but I could tell how much they care for you. Besides, aren't you & Hermione boyfriend & girlfriend? I don't think Harry would come between you two."

"That's just the thing, Charlie. I don't know if I even have feelings for Hermione. I wonder if I ever really did, or if I was just glad to have a girlfriend. It's all a mess, I've fucked everything up, and I'm not sure how to fix it."

Charlie gave Ron a stern look. "Well, you're going to have to. You know you can't just leave them to fend for themselves. They need you."

"They need me like they need a hole in the head. I'm useless, Charlie, I don't think I bring anything useful to the group." Ron slunk down in his chair.

"That's not true, Ron. We've talked about this before. The only thing you lack is confidence" 'Not to mention insight,' Charlie thought.

"Enough of that," said Burns, giving Charlie a significant look. "Go get dressed, Chuck. Bill & Fleur should be arriving any minute now. I don't want her ogling my man again."


	5. THE FALLOUT

Harry didn't know it was possible for a person to cry for three days straight.

Ever since Ron's departure, Hermione had been crying. It started out as loud, heart-rending wails into the night. Despite the Muffliato charm Hermione had used to conceal their location, Harry worried that these cries would betray them. Afterwards, when Hermione returned to the tent, there was a steady fall of tears, lasting for hours, into the pillow on her bare cot until she fell asleep. Harry had never seen anybody literally cry themself to sleep, until today he'd thought it was just an expression.

The next day Hermione woke sniffling. It might have been mistaken for the onset of a cold, except that occasionally the sniffling would get louder, and dissolve into an awful silence of solid tears that lasted for minutes to hours. She seemed to get a hold on her emotions long enough to tend to the tasks necessary to their bare subsistence, but Harry noticed that the sniffling never completely went away. After another meager dinner of leftover, stewed wild mushrooms (they weren't very good the first time around, almost inedible the next day despite Hermione's expert attempts to improve their flavor & texture through magic) she again took to her cot, and once again came the steady, silent tears that carried her to a restless sleep.

It continued like this for the next day, and the day after that. It annoyed Harry, to be honest, who had his own feelings of betrayal & loss to deal with, but he wasn't selfish enough to interrupt Hermione's grief to express his own. At the end of the third day, however, Harry decided it couldn't possibly be healthy for Hermione to continue weeping indefinitely, and he persuaded her to pull up stakes & apparate to a new location.

They landed at the bottom of an impossibly high, white cliff, close to the sea shore. After putting up the tent, and Harry taking over the task of placing the magical wards, Harry finally instigated conversation. "I miss him too, you know. I can't imagine what it must be like for you."

"I just feel so betrayed, Harry. We've been friends for so many years, how could he just leave like that?"

"You know Ron," Harry answered. He saw a tremor go through Hermione at the mention of the name, made a mental note to avoid naming him in the future. "He gets mad, he does stupid things. He'll get over it, Hermione, we'll run into him eventually & things will go back to normal."

"That's the thing, Harry - I'm not sure I want that. I'll always love him, as a friend...but how can someone who's supposed to love me treat me like that? It's just not ok." With that she resumed crying; with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Harry put his arm around her & did his best to comfort her, to no avail.


	6. THE REUNION

Ron hadn't been as happy in the last few months as he was right now. Shell Cottage was small & rustic, but also very comfortable. Even with 5 people, there never seemed to be a lack of room. For the first time in what felt like years Ron was able to eat his fill of delicious meals prepared by Fleur & Burns (both of whom could conjure up wonders in the kitchen). Ron took several long walks along the beach, sometimes alone, sometimes accompanied by Burns. He was a fascinating wizard & Ron enjoyed his company immensely.

It wasn't apparent that first day that Ron had met Burns, but his left arm was made of some sort of metal. The dragon accident that Charlie teased Burns about had actually been very serious, and could have taken Burns' life if Charlie hadn't been there & intervened quickly. "That's when I knew he was The One," said Burns. "You wouldn't believe how romantic it is to be saved from death." His burnt arm wasn't salvageable, but a very talented healer worked her magic & crafted Burns' new one out of a mysterious metal only found in Africa. It was pretty much perfect. It never got tired, repelled dirt & water, didn't rust, had excellent reflexes, and the strength of about 10 trolls. It was one of the coolest things Ron had ever seen.

Ron was glad that Bill & Fleur had decided to stay. They had been living at the small flat Fleur had been renting since before their wedding. Lately they had seen men in long, stylish coats and cloaks hanging around the neighborhood. They always had one hand in a pocket. Clearly they were Death Eaters. Seeing as it was a Muggle area, they thought it was important to vacate before a confrontation took place. Fleur was reasonably sure that Death Eaters wouldn't care if Muggles saw them using magic. Easy enough to obliviate the truth out of their non-magical brains, or Avada Kedavra them. The possibility of Bill & Fleur returning to the Weasley home had been discussed, and ruled out as far too dangerous. While the Fidelius charm concealed the exact location of the home, it was well known what general direction it was located in. Nobody in the house could come or go without great risk. It didn't help that Xenophilius Lovegood, the idiot, hadn't done a thing to protect his own home, which was less than a mile away. It stood against the sky like a turret, it was impossible to miss, and therefore served as an indicator that the Weasley home was close by. Molly would have loved to have gone up there to talk some sense into Xeno's addled brain, but Arthur deemed it too risky, and his sons agreed, and they managed to talk Molly out of it. Nobody had seen Xeno since Bill & Fleur's wedding, and therefore they had no idea where his loyalties might lie these days. After publishing an edition of The Quibbler insisting that the English magical community throw its support behind Harry Potter, Xeno seemed to have stopped publishing the tabloid, as no further issues were distributed after that.

Ron would have dearly loved to go home, even for just a short visit, but Bill had flatly refused to even consider it. "You've no idea how closely we're being watched, Ron. Everybody knows that Harry was considered a part of our family, and everybody reckons he'll show up at our house eventually. I just pray that he has enough sense to realize that's the absolute LAST place he should go."

"He does," said Ron absentmindedly. "We've been having quite a time finding places to put up the tent. The whole point has been to stay as far away from inhabited places as we can. Harry knows better than to show up anywhere he might be expected." Ron felt a small twinge of guilt; he knew that Harry & Hermione were talking about exploring Godric's Hollow, where Death Eaters were also likely to show up. Of course he couldn't tell any of them about Harry & Hermione's whereabouts & plans, but this little lie still bothered him. Bill was one of his favorite people in the world, and Ron hated being dishonest with him.

After 5 days of relaxing & catching up with his brothers (and getting to know his siblings-in-law better), Ron got a surprise he hadn't expected. He had been in the kitchen while Burns magicked up stacks of pancakes & sausages (he was an excellent cook, though Fleur seemed a little put out by his dominance of the kitchen), when he heard a familiar voice from the living room. "I brought some supplies because you know how he likes to eat. I can't imagine they've been eating very well in that blasted tent, poor Ronnie."

"MUM!!!" Ron cried excitedly, leaping over the back of the sofa & nearly knocking it over.

"RONNIE!!!" Molly exclaimed, her voice full of emotion. They met near the doorway to the kitchen, where Molly administered one of her famous rib-cracking hugs. "I missed you so, so much, you just have no idea," she wept, wetting Ron's red hair with her tears. "Bill thought it was a bad idea for me to come" she shot a momentarily glare towards her oldest son as she pulled away from Ron, while holding both of his hands in hers " but there's no way they could keep me away. Finally Dumbledore agreed, though he made me promise not to ask any questions about where you had been and what you've been up to. I can't really see why he'd try to come between a mother & her son like that, but Dumbledore seems to know best as always." Molly exhaled a rattled, emotion filled breath, then started crying again in earnest. "You look so thin, there's nobody to look after you three, where are Harry & Hermione? I'm sure they're just as much in need of feeding up as you are." She looked around the small room expectantly, as if she were waiting for Harry to spring out from behind the curtains.

"Uhhh, I'm not sure. I sort of, well, left."

"You LEFT?!?!? Ronald Bilius Weasley!" she exclaimed, hitting him on the arm with the canvas bag she was carrying, which was much heavier than it looked. "Why in the world...oh, never mind that, that's a question & apparently questions are NOT ALLOWED. If you are ALLOWED TO ANSWER, can you at least tell me if they're ok?"

"When I left they were fine, though I'm sure they're not too happy with me."

"I'm not terribly happy with you either! If what you three are up to is really so important, you've no business leaving them when they might need you! If you agreed to do a job, Ron, you need to see it through. It's just the right thing to do."

"I know, Mum, I know, but I'm not sure how to get back to them. I'm not even sure where they are right now."

"You haven't even tried," said Charlie. "Maybe you could apparate to where they are? Dumbledore once told me it's possible to apparate to people you are close to, without knowing exactly where they are."

Hmmm, Dumbledore...an idea popped into Ron's head, he filed it away for further examination when he would be alone later that night.

"Speaking of people you feel close to, how are things with Hermione going? You seemed to be getting awfully fond of each other last summer at the wedding." Molly said with a sly look on her face.

"Uhhh, I don't think we're as close as we were. Things were kind of strained when I left. I kind of...yelled at her."

"You WHAT?!?!? Ron, how do you expect to get closer to her when you're YELLING at her? I raised you better than to YELL at your GIRLFRIEND!"

At this, Charlie & Burns exchanged a significant look. Bill seemed to pick up on this & understand its meaning. "Don't worry, Mum, Fleur & I will have a word with him about it when he's less distracted." Fleur had a bemused look on her face. She wasn't really sure how she got dragged into this conversation, or what she'd have to contribute. She had decided to say this, but before she got it out Bill said, "Well enough about that, what food did you bring us?" as he started rummaging through the canvas bag that was packed with food, having been magically extended inside.


	7. THE TALK

Later that night, as Fleur and Bill were lying in bed, talking about mundane things as couples often do, Fleur asked, "What ees this talk we are supposed to have with Ron?" Since moving to England Fleur's English had improved dramatically, though occasionally she slipped into her native French accent.

Bill sighed. "Charlie thinks Ron is gay & in love with Harry. So does Burns. At first I wasn't sure, but after hearing what Ron had to say about his relationship with Hermione, I'm beginning to suspect Charlie is right."

"Ron said he & Hermione are no longer a couple."

"It sounds to me like they never really were," said Bill. "They knew each other for 7 years, and it's only been in the last year that they developed feelings for each other. And before Hermione Ron never mentioned interest in any other girl, not one. Doesn't that seem a little strange for a teenage wizard? Either Ron is really thick, which I know he's not, or he just wants a girlfriend because he feels like he should."

"And Ron did say he questions whether he ever really did have feelings for her," said Fleur. "I noticed, too, that when Ron and Harry were together, Ron hung on Harry's every word. I didn't think of it at the time, but Ron did seem very attached" she said thoughtfully.

"I noticed that too. Last summer, when both Harry & Hermione were coming to stay, Ron seemed much more excited to see Harry, it was all he could talk about for a week beforehand. He only mentioned Hermione once or twice" observed Bill.

"Do you think Harry might feel the same way about Ron?" asked Fleur.

"I have a feeling he doesn't" stated Bill. "He seems interested in Hermione, and lately Ginny seems to be drawing his eye too. Of course you never know, anybody can turn out to be gay (or bi), but I have a feeling Harry isn't."

"Poor Ron," said Fleur. "I'm sure you didn't know, but my fazzer is gay," said Fleur. "Maybe he can talk to Ron? I think eet helps that he has Charlie as a brozzer, but sometimes it's better to talk to somebody you didn't grow up with. It'd make it easier to ask certain questions. Maybe Dumbledore can talk to him about it, that is if we can lure him out of hiding."

"I don't know, Dumbledore has been so hard to reach since he faked his death. I didn't know about your father. Did he and your mother know when they got married?" asked Bill.

"He didn't realize he was gay until after I was born. Mozzer had her suspicions, but she thought he might go both ways. His family wasn't happy about it, still aren't. I haven't seen my Aunt Frocine in many years. It's no loss, she's very narrow minded. As a child I always thought she might be a dark witch. And she always smells like old cheese & lavender. Ees not a good aroma."

"I never would have guessed your father is gay! But now that you say it, it makes sense. He seemed rather, how should I put it, fancy."

"Yes, fazzer has always had great style & a flair for the dramatic. It's one of the things Mother loves best about him."

"Your parents seems more like old friends than a romantic couple."

"Oh there is a bit of romance there, I am sure," said Fleur. "Father loves seeing Mother dressed up, he always buys her new gowns & jewels, which naturally Mother loves. They love to go dancing, and often they stay up most of the night just talking & laughing with each other. If you & I are that happy with each other after 30 years, I will think us very lucky."

"Me too," said Bill, "though there is one thing I'm not going to give up." He got up from the bed, straddled Fleur, and took off his shirt.

"Mmmmmm," hummed Fleur, a look of complete love in her eyes.


	8. THE DISCOVERY

While Bill & Fleur canoodled in their bedroom, Ron was fiddling with the deluminator left to him by Dumbledore while lying on his cot in the living room. Charlie & Burns had the second, smaller bedroom down the hall from where Ron laid. Luckily Charlie & Burns were quiet, much quieter than Bill & Fleur! Ron had been listening to the steadily squeaking springs of their old four poster bed, punctuated by occasional laughter. Ron wondered what could possibly be so funny about having sex. Having never had any, Ron wondered a lot of things about sex.

Ron was a virgin. He rarely even masturbated, though he thought about having a partner constantly. He'd never told anybody, but he fantasized about both men and women, often at the same time. There was nobody he felt he could tell. Percy no doubt wouldn't have time to listen. The twins would've, he didn't doubt, teased him about it & told everyone they could. Bill & Charlie were too old, and Ron wasn't a big fan of conversations that started out with "when I was your age...." Ginny was too young, and a girl. The thought of talking about sexuality with either of his parents was appalling.

Just as he didn't often indulge in self pleasure, he also didn't often fantasize about having sex with his imaginary partners. Mostly they kissed, held hands, cuddled. It was immensely satisfying for Ron to imagine these things, though they also made him feel profoundly sad. At heart Ron was a romantic. He had started dating Hermione because, well, because he liked her. She was pretty, she was smart, and she was (usually) very nice to him. But it was more. He felt her sadness, her belief that people didn't understand her. She was much smarter than most everybody they knew but seemed to be missing something that she couldn't really identify. Ron perceived that this unknown something created a rift that separated Hermione from others. More than anything Ron wanted to cross that divide, hold her in his arms, reassure her that it was ok & SHE was okay.

In the end it didn't seem to be enough. The longer he and Hermione were together, the more Ron began to see that he really didn't understand her. She was quite outside of his comprehension, being so much smarter than Ron that he usually couldn't even grasp her train of thought. Instead of feeling he & Hermione were completed by each other, he felt more isolation in her presence than when he was alone. Besides, while he found Hermione very pretty, he didn't really see her as, well, sexy. She dressed like a soccer mom. Jeans that didn't fit her very well. Button down Oxford shirts, usually underneath a jumper or a sleeveless sweater. Hair pulled up into a severe bun, or left to straggle fuzzily to her shoulders. Ron had observed that Hermione refused to magically tend to her hair. She cut it every few months with a tiny cuticle scissors. He found it cute when he first saw her do it; later it became aggravating, seeing her snip tiny bits of her hair, one after another. Snip, snip, snip, in that patient and methodical way that Hermione did everything. He couldn't even watch the process anymore. Why didn't she tend to it with magic? A magical haircut only took a few minutes to complete. Ron had seen his mother do it to every one of her children, and usually her husband (though, from time to time, when he could get his hands on dollar bills, he went to a Muggle salon for a shave & a haircut, mostly so he could talk to the stylist & hear about mundane Muggle stuff). Harry trimmed his hair about once a week (though he'd still had no success taming his thick black mop). Ron could have done Hermione's hair in a trice, Harry could probably have done it even quicker, but Hermione preferred her method, which usually took at least half an hour, and left her looking pretty much the same as before her haircut. Snip. Snip. Snip. It drove Ron batty!

Also, Ron just wasn't attracted to Hermione in a sexual way. He didn't desire her body, and if he tried to fantasize about her, it only made him feel awkward, as if he'd walked in on Professor McGonagall in her underwear. In fact, 'inappropriate' would have been a better word for it. He couldn't imagine dating anybody he didn't want to have sex with for more than a month or so, yet he & Hermione had been considering themselves a couple since the previous spring, which was about nine months ago. The only times he found fantasizing about Hermione to be exciting was when he imagined her and Harry with him at the same time.

If imagining sex with Hermione felt awkward, fantasizing about Harry felt even more inappropriate, almost sinful (though Ron didn't really believe in the Muggle ideas of sin & redemption). He was Ron's best mate! Ron was pretty sure Harry wasn't gay, or bi, or even bi-curious. Harry had confessed his attraction to Ginny after pursuing her for months, but had never shown any inclination towards other males. He was not bothered by gay wizards in the least. Their suite mates Dean & Seamus had started dating shortly after Dean's disastrous relationship with Ginny ended. At first Harry found it very amusing, having never suspected they might have feelings for each other, but after a week or so Harry settled into the attitude that it was perfectly normal for the two boys to kiss and hold hands in front of him, and not even worth mentioning. Harry was great like that.

Ron couldn't imagine, though, that Harry would have felt the same way about Ron having feelings for him. If he ever suspected (and in truth there was plenty to suspect) and didn't return the feeling, Ron felt like he'd have died from disappointment and embarrassment. Surely, if he knew of Ron's feelings, Harry would suddenly feel awkward around Ron. It would change their friendship, Ron was sure of that. Even the most open minded straight wizard wouldn't want to be ogled while stripping down to his underwear every night before bed! Friendship only stretched so far, even among best friends.

So Ron purposely averted his eyes whenever Harry changed into his pajamas. He had to, otherwise he couldn't have helped noticing Harry's skinny legs, furry with black hair, his bubble butt, his scrawny but well-developed chest. Harry's body was imperfect, by most people's standards, but to Ron it was beautiful. He was like a baby bird that wanted nurturing & cuddling. It drove Ron to distraction, and it was so much easier to just not look. Ron feared Harry would some day notice that he purposely turned away while he was dressing and figure out the whole scenario. One day Harry would start changing within the privacy of his curtained bed, and an icy chill would develop between him & Ron.

Living in the tent for the last 6 months had actually made the situation a little more bearable. Out of respect for Hermione, Harry always changed in a private spot, which was a relief to Ron. It didn't change his feelings one bit, but at least he didn't have to pretend to not notice. Though it also helped that Harry was usually well-bundled in two jumpers because of the cold (while there was heat in the tent, it was barely adequate), Ron had to admit that Harry was especially fetching wrapped in his cobalt blue wool jumper.

While Ron mused over these thoughts, as if conjured by them, he heard Harry's voice say his name. "Ron." It wasn't as Harry was calling for him, it was more like a snippet of a conversation where his name had popped up in the course. Ron looked around the living room, bemused, and then heard it again. "Ron." This time he was able to place the source of the sound; it was coming from the end table beside his cot, where he had lain the deluminator. Ron picked it up. Instantly a small white light blossomed in front of him. Ron remembered that Dumbledore'd told Charlie about apparating to people one felt close to, and opened up the deluminator. It sucked in the small light instantly. Ron was taken by a certainty that his theory must be right. He closed the deluminator, and apparated, landing on a beach in front of impossibly high white cliffs.


	9. THE VISITORS

"Shhhh! Harry! I hear it again."

Try as he might, Harry couldn't hear what Hermione was fussing over. He only heard the faint rustle of leaves in the night breeze...Harry realized, it was a still night with no wind of any kind.

"I hear it now," breathed Harry into Hermione's ear. His next comment was halted before it came out. There was DEFINITELY the sound of a body moving, the snap of a twig, and a sharp intake of breath.

Harry shuddered as this brought back memories of Voldemort sliding along the floor of the Forbidden Forest at Hogwart's. Eleven had been a hell of an age to meet the Dark Lord for the first time. Even in the weakened & less threatening body he shared with Professor Quirrell, Voldemort was terrifying. Of course, mused Harry, there wasn't really a good time to encounter the most murderous magician of Wizarding's long history. It's just that it'd be nice to know what a normal childhood, free from abuse and the possibility of imminent death, felt like.

Harry was jolted out of his momentary reflections by the sound of a female voice yelping. There was a scuffling sound, then a familiar sounding Irish accented voice said, "Oi! Hang on!" Whose voice is that? wondered Harry. He knew he'd heard it somewhere before....

Hermione recognized the voice right away. She rushed to the opening of the tent & out to the forest beyond. Harry heard her shriek, then the sound of trainers crackling on dry leaves as she ran to embrace the visitors. A moment later she appeared back at the entrance, with Seamus Finnigan and an unknown young woman in tow.

"Look who I found, Harry!"

"I thought that voice sounded familiar!" cried Harry as he went to embrace his former classmate.

"You'd think you'd remember after seeing me nearly every day of the past 7 years!" Seamus hugged Harry with a strength that could've damaged internal organs, if maintained long enough.

Hermione turned towards the woman who had arrived with Seamus. "My name is Hermione Granger," she said as she held her hand out for a shake. "And you are...."

"This is Olivia. We met at a group for LGBT wizards & witches. She was in a bit of trouble because...." Seamus trailed off.

"Because I'm trans. I know you guys, my name used to be Oliver. Oliver Wood."

"No SHIT?!?!?" exclaimed Harry. "I had no idea you are trans!"

"Well you weren't paying any attention then, were you Harry?" said Hermione with that condescending know-it-all tone she sometimes had. "I sussed it out first year. I'm glad you've made the transition, Olivia! You look great!"

"We trans witches are very lucky, we can use magic in our transition. My dad helped me with the trickier bits."

"Careful there, Harry, if you don't close your mouth you're going to catch flies," said Seamus with a smile in his eyes. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you'd never met a trans witch before!"

"Uhhh, I don't think I have, actually."

Hermione gave one of her patented sighs of exasperation. "Yes, Harry you have."

"Who?" Harry asked quizzically.

"Why Cho Chang, of course!" said Hermione. "Don't tell me you didn't know! It was all over the school when she & Cedric started dating. At first I thought it was just a rumour, until I heard her talking about it with her friend Marietta...you know, The Sneak?" she said with a snigger. "Pansy Parkinson actually confronted Cedric about it, he said he already knew and didn't care one way or the other. I can't believe you'd never heard any of this."

"I was a little out of the gossip loop during 4th year, as I was pretty busy trying to not get killed by something mad," said Harry testily.

"Why Harry Potter, you're not upset that your girlfriend was trans, are you? I'd have expected better of you," scolded Hermione.

"No, of course not! I just wished I'd known. Now I'll have to wonder forever if I didn't accidentally say something offensive & not realized it."

"You were fine, Harry," said Olivia. "I don't believe you have an anti-trans bone in your body. I'm sure Cho would have told you in her own time."

"I can't help but wonder why she told Cedric but not me."

"A lot of us are very, very choosy about who we come out to," responded Olivia. "Even before the Death Eaters took over, a lot of the wealthy & powerful wizards & witches were pretty trans-phobic. It can be dangerous to tell the wrong person! I'm guessing Cho was just waiting until you knew each other better."

After a dinner of macaroni cheese, a gift provided by Seamus and Olivia which came from a box and was surprisingly delicious, the four were relaxing at the small table & catching each other up. According to Seamus, things in the Wizarding World were going from bad to worse.

"They are especially tough on LGBT folk," said Seamus. "Dean and I started going to the support group, which was really dangerous, seeing as all relationships must be registered through the Ministry, and they won't register any same sex couples, or any people whose gender doesn't match their birth record. Dean & I were planning to marry right after graduation, but now that's not going to happen," said Seamus wistfully.

"I'm so sorry, Seamus," said Harry, taking his suite mate's hand. "I know how much you two love each other. Where is Dean now?"

"That's the problem, I have no idea," said Seamus with a small tear leaking from the corner of his right eye. "We were with the support group when we were raided. Everybody grabbed whoever they were sitting next to and disapparated. Dean had already been grabbed by the bloke on his other side, and I've no idea where they went. Olivia grabbed my hand, and I disapparated, thinking of Dean and trying to follow him."

"Well, you were close, though you didn't quite hit the nail on the head. This is the Forest of Dean," said Hermione.

"What. The. Holy. Hell!" exclaimed Seamus. "I've been hearing for years that you can apparate to a person you're close to, with some practice. It must be true."

"It is, though you need more than just a wish for it to happen. You need an Apparition Guider, which is included in a number of magical items, like Dumbledore's Deluminator."

"Where did you learn that?" questioned Olivia.

"Well I asked Dumbledore what his deluminator can do, and he told me. It seemed the logical thing to do when the subject came up."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and Ron will figure out how to use it and come back to us. I sure miss that pigheaded git," said Harry affectionately.

Seamus & Olivia gave each other a significant look, but said nothing.

_________________________


	10. THE CLIFFS

After 3 hours of fruitless searching, Ron knew that he was well & truly lost.

He had expected Harry & Hermione to be standing there waiting for him, arms open wide, smiles even wider. He didn't think they'd be ... gone. He knew they had been there recently; he could still smell a hint of Hermione's perfume in the air, as if they'd just left the beach. Plus the sand showed a shoeprint that looked a lot like the bottom of Harry's trainers.

Quickly Ron cast as many of Hermione's protective spells as he could remember. Digging in his knapsack, which had been thoroughly stocked before he left Shell Cottage, he took out a brand new, smaller tent that had been given to him by Charlie's partner Burns. It was even better than Perkins' tent that Hermione & Harry still had. This one was brand new and didn't smell of cats. It didn't have a proper stove, but it did have a brand new microwave that could cook just about anything. Burns, with Arthur's help, had fixed it so that it ran on magic instead of electricity. Arthur hadn't just been collecting electrical plugs, he'd been experimenting, and figured out how to make them respond to magic. In addition, Ron had brought enough food to feed the whole Chudley Cannons Quidditch team for a year. Most of it had been magically shrunk, making it much easier to carry large amounts. Ron's mouth began to water when he thought of the rasher of bacon & loaf of homemade bread in one of the tiny bags. Ron had hoped his mum would have made these ingredients into sandwiches, but according to Charlie she wanted them to do as much for themselves as they could.

"As if she had any idea how much we were doing for ourselves," grumbled Ron as he remembered the exchange with Charlie. Of course he couldn't tell either of them much about what they were doing, but it still meant more work for Ron. He set to work putting up the new tent. Not much was required past the wave of his wand & the uttering of a spell that Burns may have created himself; Ron had surely never heard of it. Whatever its origins, it worked - in a matter of a minute or so, the tent contained the equivalent of a small flat when fully assembled. Ron walked in, looked around in wonder, then set to making bacon sandwiches.

An hour later Ron finally admitted defeat. Cooking had never been a talent of his - who needed to learn to cook? His mother was more than up to the task of feeding her whole brood; considering the family's limited resources, she had to be good at magicking food into large meals. Of course at Hogwarts the house elves prepared delicious food on a daily basis. Who needed to cook? Well, Ron did at this moment. His first lesson was to not cook bacon in the microwave. He was very careful to check it every minute or so. It was raw, cook another minute. Still raw, another minute. Still raw, yet another minute. Still raw going into the microwave...burnt coming out. How can something go from raw to cooked so quickly? Mum never seemed to have that problem...even though, Ron realized, she probably didn't know a microwave oven from a hole in the ground.

Ron tried transforming the bacon from raw to cooked, but it only really worked on the ends. Even those didn't taste very good. He tried conjuring a cooker, he got one to appear, but had no idea how to make it work, so he dejectedly vanished it. He even tried using magical flame underneath the pan, but it proved too difficult for Ron to keep the frying pan hovering while maintaining flame underneath. Also, the only flame Ron could make was the 'bluebell' fire Hermione learned in first year, it wasn't very hot (not nearly hot enough for proper cooking). In the end Ron ate about half of the bread with butter & jam. Normally Ron loved bread & jam. It was no bacon sandwich, though. Ron sadly threw the wasted, half-cooked, and burnt bacon out of the tent.

Later that evening, Ron was lounging on a comfy sofa in the tent (it really was remarkable), and he again heard his name coming out of his pocket. This time he was prepared. He took out the deluminator, and released the ball of light that had been stored there since he'd left the previous evening. After the deluminator re-claimed the light, Ron disapparated to wherever the light would take him next.

An hour after Ron left, booted feet walked across the black sand underneath the cliffs where Ron had previously been. The man in the boots saw something on the sand, bent over, and picked it up. It was an uncooked piece of bacon. The man smiled, and disapparated with the bacon in his metal hand.


	11. THE SEARCH FOR FOOD

Seamus and Olivia stayed the night, and left the next morning to look for Dean. They didn't even stay long enough to share the leftover mac & cheese that served as breakfast. After they left, Hermione and Harry went in search of mushrooms & wild berries for their dinner. It was Hermione's turn (usually one of them stayed in the tent to guard the campground), but Harry joined out of both boredom and a desire to talk over recent events.

"I wish they would have stayed at least another night. I have a bad feeling about them being out there alone, especially knowing that the Death Eaters are searching for them. Do you think they'll be able to survive?" asked Harry.

"I sure hope so. They have about as good a chance as we do. I can understand Seamus wanting to look for Dean though. I heard him crying at night when he thought we were all sleeping. I have the same feeling about Ron. Remember how I cried when he left?" said Hermione.

"I didn't know there were that many tears in you! I hope you never cry like that again. I felt so bad for you, especially knowing there was nothing I could do to help."

"Just being there, and giving me my space, was plenty of help. It was what I needed at the time. I know something has changed between me & Ron, but I still worry about him & wonder if he's ok. If what we're doing wasn't so important, I'd probably go looking for him," said Hermione.

"I would too," answered Harry. He was silent, trying to find the right words to express his thoughts. "You said that something has changed between you two. What's that about?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't know Harry, I definitely love Ron, but I wonder if I ever was really 'in love' with him. It was awfully convenient for him to fit into boyfriend position, being one of my best friends and all, don't you think? I mean, I've always been attracted to him, I've had a thing for him ever since you & he saved me from that troll during first year. You both just seemed so brave. You've always felt like a brother to me, but Ron...I don't know why, maybe it's his ginger hair. I've always fancied gingers, since I was a little girl. I've fancied him for so many years, when I figured out he felt the same about me, it just seemed like such an easy choice to start a relationship. But there was never much of a spark. I mean, when you're in love, they say you get a funny feeling in your stomach, you can't stop thinking about them...I've never had that with Ron. Kissing him was nice, but...well, I just don't think I was ever really in love. If anything, I was in love with the idea of having a boyfriend."

"What about Viktor Krum?" asked Harry, with a smirk.

"Oh, Viktor, I never really had feelings for him. It was terribly flattering, having a handsome, famous athlete interested in me, but he really wasn't my type. I think I mainly spent time with him to make Ron jealous."

"It sure worked," said Harry. "He went from idolizing the guy to hating his guts in the space of a week. It was actually kind of funny to watch. That's when I figured out that he liked you."

"For me it was definitely the Yule ball. It was so obvious that he wanted to ask me but just couldn't get up the nerve. I actually held out til a week before, then went with Viktor because I knew it'd drive Ron mad!"

"Padma & Parvati wouldn't talk to either Ron or me for weeks afterwards. I was too busy minding Ron to dance with Parvati, and Ron completely ignored Padma. That wasn't a fun night for any of us, was it? "

"Speak for yourself! I had a great time, until Ron's little outburst. Speaking of the Yule ball, did you know that your great grandfather invented the Sleekeazy potion I used to manage my hair that night?"

"Really? I had no idea! I bet that's where all the money I inherited came from."

"That wasn't the only one though, he also invented Pepperup Potion and Skele-Grow. I read about it in 'Nature's Nobility.' Your family was quite prominent. In fact, their lineage was pure enough that they should have been on the Sacred 28 list, only Potter is a very common Muggle name, so they were left off because of suspicion that the family had Muggle blood."

"Well, that's okay with me, I wouldn't want to be on any list that included so many Death Eaters. It seems kind of fitting, my bloodline is probably more pure than any of theirs, but my name isn't on that list. A blessing in disguise, really."

"Well, I think we've depleted this area of anything edible. Lucky for us this forest is so big, but we'll have to go even farther tomorrow to find more food. I'm afraid we're going to have to start eating acorns if we don't. Maybe we should relocate to another part of the forest?" suggested Hermione.

"That sounds like a good idea," answered Harry. "Let's wait til after nightfall, just in case. I'd hate for a snatcher to see us before we get our wards up." With that, they brought their small basket, with a paltry amount of mushrooms & berries, back to the tent.


	12. THE BOOKS

Later that day, for lack of something to do, Harry was tidying up the tent (it would have taken about 5 minutes with magic, but he was doing it by hand to kill time), and Hermione was going through the contents of her handbag, making a mess where Harry had just cleaned.

"I wonder if we could make Felix Felicis? I know Slughorn said it was difficult and time consuming, but we have nothing but time on our hands...Where...where...ahhh, here it is, 'Advanced Potion Making!' She traced her finger across the title of the book, feeling nostalgic at the mere sight of the words. Opening the book, she started to laugh when she saw the title page, with the name 'Roonil Wazlib' written across the top.

"Harry, do you remember those self-correcting quills that Fred & George used to sell? Their magic sure didn't last very long, did it?"

"True, it didn't," said Harry as he warmed to the memory. "I always wondered if that was Fred & George's intent, that they'd malfunction and start writing wonky things. It's totally something they would have done. I sure miss them," Harry said with a twinge of regret and more than a little bit of grief.

"I do too. It was just awful what the Carrows did. I don't think they intended for their shop to blow up, they probably didn't realize how many volatile potions they had in their research lab."

"I don't know, I think the Death Eaters were gunning for the twins for awhile, considering how much trouble they gave their kids during their last year at Hogwarts. Trapping Goyle in that vanishing cabinet was the last straw, I think. He almost died trying to get out."

"Too bad he didn't die. There'd be one less Death Eater right now if he had," said Hermione with an uncharacteristic bitterness. "What they did to the Weasleys was unforgivable."

"That's what makes what we are doing so important, Hermione. If You-Know-Who wins, that will be the order of the day, every day."

"Remember back when the order of the day was getting an education? When our biggest problem was getting to class on time? It seems so long ago, but it was less than a year."

"Yeah, less than a year since Dumbledore..." Harry trailed off as a lump began to form in his throat. He felt that, if he allowed himself to cry for Dumbledore, he'd never stop.

"Harry, they never did find the body," said Hermione softly, laying her hand on his forearm with a sympathetic look on her face. "I still wonder what exactly happened to it."

"Well, according to McGonagall, the body was already in his tomb when they went and checked. She believed it was another spell of Dumbledore's creation, apparating his dead body into the tomb so students wouldn't have to see his corpse should he die on school grounds."

"Don't you think that sounds a little fishy, Harry? Besides, it's not possible to apparate at Hogwarts."

"Dumbledore could have worked out a way around that. And McGonagall wouldn't lie, Hermione. I know that. I trust in that."

"Well, I agree...but what if somebody had lied to HER? She never said that she personally saw the body, maybe she was just reporting what she was told by other people."

Harry sighed. They had been through this before. "Hermione...I know you don't want him to be dead. Neither do I. Hell, I'm sure most of the wizarding community feels that way. But he's gone. It doesn't do any good to keep inventing scenarios where he might still be alive. If he was, don't you think he'd have reappeared by now?"

"I'm sorry, Harry, but you know me, evidence is EVERYTHING. And until there is more conclusive evidence...I just don't think I can let it go. You're probably right though. Denial is a stage of grief, isn't it?"

Harry gave her a sad smile, wishing his dear friend wasn't so smart.


	13. THE DOE

Ron landed on a fragrant pile of pine needles, in the middle of what looked like a vast forest. It seemed ancient, it was impossible to tell how deep the fallen leaves & needles went until solid ground could be found. Ron recognized several pines, oak trees, and beech. He had a strong feeling that Harry & Hermione were close by. Despite the danger involved, he walked around the area saying "Harry? Hermione?" as loudly as he dared. After a few hours of this, he settled down, set up his tent, and settled in for a much-needed night's sleep.

The next day Ron occupied himself with setting up camp. He started by putting in place the wards that protected him. He'd forgotten to do this last night, having a strong need to sleep, and counted his lucky stars (as his mum would put it) that he wasn't discovered. After an adequate dinner of chicken sandwiches (he'd sadly given up his hope of cooking bacon), he sat in the entrance to his tent, planning his next move. As he sat, considering his options, he saw a softly glowing light in a pine tree about 50 feet away. At first he thought it was a glow worm, until he realized it was slowly getting larger as it came towards him. Ron was filled with a certainty that this light was, somehow, good. His brain warned him that it could be a trick of a Death Eater trying to lure them out of hiding, but his instincts told him otherwise. Instinct won out over prudence, and Ron got up & started following the light.

After a few feet, Ron saw a larger glowing figure behind a huge oak tree. It was a Patronus, in the shape of a deer. "Harry's Patronus is a stag," Ron thought excitedly. He took a step towards the Patronus. In his haste he stepped on a twig on the forest floor, the Patronus turned from him & cantered away. Ron followed, as quietly as possible, at a distance.

Some time later Ron saw another, fainter light in the distance, along with a glint of cobalt blue. It was the same color as Harry's sweater, the one Ron liked. As he got closer he saw Harry following the Patronus through the woods, holding his lit wand in front of him. With a sense of jubilation Ron walked towards his friend. At this moment the Patronus looked at Ron, and seemed to shake its head imperceptibly from side to side, as if to instruct Ron to not follow. He found an ideal place to watch, behind a large beech tree with a 'V' where two massive branches separated from the main trunk.

He watched Harry slowly, carefully take off his clothes. Why would Harry do that, especially in this cold? Curiosity won out over shame at his attraction to Harry, and Ron crept a little closer so to get a better look. He then noticed that Harry was standing in front of a small pond, covered with shiny ice. Harry used his wand to crack the surface of the ice. It took several tries before he eventually broke through. Stripped down to his boxer shorts, Harry stepped forward & plunged into the freezing water.

"What the bloody HELL???" Ron whispered under his breath. "What's he playing at?" He started walking toward the pond, as briskly as he could without making too much noise. What he saw at the pond almost stopped Ron's heart. There was Harry, his Harry, struggling in the pond, the locket chain wrapped tightly around his neck.

"NO!" shouted Ron, jumping into the pond without thinking. Instantly Ron realized what a bad idea this was, as the several sweaters, baggy jeans with long underwear underneath, and heavy jacket served to weigh him down so he could barely move. Regardless, Ron managed to grab Harry below the arms & haul him up onto the ice. As he was helping Harry he saw a bright silver object half submerged in the silt that had been disturbed by the two of them jumping into the pond. He grabbed the handle, and noticed with excitement a large ruby in the hilt. Ron used the point of the sword to push himself up towards the opening in the ice, and pulled himself out of the water. He collapsed into a wet heap, his clothes streaming pond water.

"Finally, we're getting somewhere," quipped Ron.


	14. THE LOCKET PT II

"RON!!!" exclaimed Harry. "Where the fuck have you been?!? How the bloody hell did you find us? What...what the...how...RON!"

Ron laughed at the confused look on Harry's face. "I've been trying to find you for three days now, mate. I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so, so sorry for running out on you & Hermione. I'm a prat. A total, complete prat. Oh and you'd better get dressed before your dick freezes off." Ron had noticed Harry's penis peeking through the fly in his boxers, and was doing everything he could to not look at it.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot, it's freezing & we're both soaking wet," responded Harry. He magically dried both of them off, then started re-dressing. "So...where have you been all this time? What's it been, like, a week?"

"I started out in Knockturn Alley, of all places. I almost got captured by snatchers, but I was rescued. Managed to splinch myself again. I ended up at Shell Cottage, got to see Charlie, Bill, and Mum. Oh, and did you know, Dumbledore's still alive!"

"Really? I guess I'm not terribly surprised. Hermione figured he might be, and how often is she wrong? So where is he now?"

"Not sure really, Moody's the only one who's allowed to see him. Probably because Moody's so paranoid, he's the one least likely to spill the secret."

"Do you suppose he'd help us figure out how to destroy these things?"

"Believe me, Harry, I tried to get his help, but Bill said Dumbledore's pretty much unavailable. Of course I didn't tell Bill what we're up to, but just asked if I could get Dumbledore's advice. I got back a written message, saying that he probably knew less about the subject than we did. It's up to us, Harry."

"Well, we've got the sword and according to Hermione it should be able to break the locket & kill the bit of soul inside. Ready to give it a try?" asked Harry.

"Yeah...here, I'll hold it, you swing the sword," answered Ron, removing the locket from his pocket. He didn't remember putting it there.

"Actually I was thinking you should be the one to kill this one. It seems to go after you in a way it doesn't to me & Hermione. It'll do you good, I think."

Ron felt a knot of apprehension in his stomach. "You really think so Harry? I'm not really sure that's a good idea...."

"I'm positive. My every instinct tells me this is the way to do it, and Dumbledore always said that instinct is crucial in magic."

"Well, my instincts tell me you're full of shit," muttered Ron, but he gripped the sword and prepared to swing as Harry held the locket on a large, flat rock. He hissed something in Parseltongue, the locket clicked open, and Ron saw a pair of eyes, one on each side of the locket. One was a rich brown, the other was bright red.

Ron raised the sword, ready to strike. Before he had the chance, though, the locket exploded with a thick, acrid smoke. The force of the explosion pushed both Harry & Ron backwards. The smoke writhed, billowed, and formed itself into a replica of Voldemort's face.

"I HAVE SEEN YOUR HEART, RON WEASLEY, AND I KNOW YOUR SECRETS. THE LEAST LOVED OF AN OLD FAMILY, A CONTINUAL DISAPPOINTMENT FOR NOT BEING THE DAUGHTER YOUR PARENTS WANTED. YOU ARE NOTHING, YOU ARE A BLACK HOLE AMONG BRIGHTER LIGHTS. YOU CLING DESPERATELY TO YOUR BEST FRIEND, KNOWING HE'LL NEVER LOVE YOU BACK IN THE WAY YOU LOVE HIM."

At those last words, the face of Voldemort dissolved, and a replica of Harry appeared in its stead. At least it resembled Harry, Ron thought it looked a little off. Where Harry's green eyes tended to exude kindness and curiosity, these eyes looked hard and cruel.

"I've always known that you fancy me...I think it's disgusting. I'd never love you. Not in a million years. I see how you look at me, I can read your thoughts on your face, it's repulsive." As the pace of this faux Harry's speech went on, he started speaking faster, his words taking on a hissing sound. "You're useless, Ron, you can't even get one thing right. We were better off without you. Go on, run back to Mummy, we will be better off without you."

A similar doppelganger of Hermione appeared next to the Harry figure in the swirling smoke. "Yes, better off without you. You lied to me Ronald Weasley, you only used me to get to Harry, and I'll never forgive you for that. Never. You couldn't even stick it out with us doing all the things you couldn't do yourself. You are nothing, Ronald Weasley, nothing compared to The Boy Who Lived."

The two figures merged together in to one, it had features of both Harry and Hermione. It was ugly, with a hateful look on its face. It terrified Ron. With both Harry & Hermione's voice it yelled, "You are NOTHING Ronald Weasley! You are a miserable bender who will never be happy and will bring nothing but misery to everyone you encounter. YOU ARE NOTHING!!!"

Tears streaming down his face, Ron gave a mighty yell and swung the sword. Its sharp blade came down crosswise, cutting through both sides of the locket. With a mighty cry, the locket put out a final cloud of thick, acrid smoke. The smoke cleared, the cry died away, and Harry saw a broken locket, eyes gone, cut across both sides. It truly looked beyond repair.

He also saw Ron Weasley, his best friend, crying piteously, clutched up into a ball beside the rock where he had destroyed the locket. Without a second thought, Harry walked over to Ron, put his arms around him, and rocked him while making soothing sounds until Ron stopped crying.


	15. The Talk pt II

"I'm so sorry, Harry, I never planned to feel this way, if you hate me I understand, I never wanted you to find out...." babbled Ron nervously, all of his insecurities & fears laid bare.

"Ron, I knew."

"Wait...you...uhhh, you KNEW???" exclaimed Ron.

"'Course I knew, you don't get to be a guy's best mate & miss something like this. Can't tell you how many times I caught you looking away when I looked over at you. If I looked into your eyes you always looked away. Not to mention, anytime I changed into my pajamas I thought you were going to burst into flame, your face got so red. It was pretty funny, really, almost made me want to parade around starkers to see what you'd do!"

"You knew...wow, I can't believe it...does Hermione know?"

"She's had her suspicions, but she always thought it was just a passing phase, that you'd eventually grow out of it or something. We talked about it a few times, when she first started to fancy you."

"It'd made things a lot easier if you'd brought it up to me! But I suppose that'd been a very uncomfortable conversation," said Ron.

"Well it might have been for you, but not so much for me. You don't need to hide it or be secretive, Ron, I don't mind. Actually I'm pretty flattered."

Ron's jaw fell, he was unable to say anything in response.

"I was waiting for you to say something, really. It was clear you weren't totally ok with the way you felt. I thought the ball was best in your court, and you'd tell me when you were ready."

"I don't know if I'd ever be ready. You have no idea how hard it's been, Harry! We're together all the time, and don't get me wrong, I would rather be with you and Hermione than anybody else on Earth. But I couldn't get it out of my mind, every time you'd smile at me, or put your arm around me, I'd get these...feelings, like my stomach just dropped out, and it'd be hard to breathe...what, do you think this is funny?" 

Harry had begun to chuckle. "How could I not have noticed Ron? I never thought any less of you, Ron. And like I said, it's pretty flattering to be fancied! Especially by somebody you care about."

Ron again turned red, then hung his head & sat down on the rock where the locket had lain. "That's really nice to hear, Harry, but fat lot of good that'll do me when you & Ginny get married & go off & have kids, while I'm stuck at home with my parents, unable to get over you & find somebody else."

"What, me & Ginny, MARRIED?!?!?" Harry began to laugh loudly. "Honestly Ron, you're not very good at reading the people around you, are you? Ginny & I have been getting close, but it's not what you think. Ginny doesn't feel that way for me, Ron, she's hung up on Dean, who only has eyes for Seamus. She's been talking to me about it a lot. She doesn't want everybody to know because she doesn't want anybody to feel sorry for her."

"I know the feeling," said Ron. "But even if it isn't Ginny then it'll be some other woman. You're straight, Harry."

"Well, I've been thinking about that, actually...I don't think I'm sexually attracted to men, at least not as much as I am to women. But, well, I could see us together, Ron, and I could see us being happy together. I just can't picture the sex part, I have no idea what that might be like. Of course it didn't really matter, after you & Hermione got together; I'd never try & come between you two. And I don't think it'd be fair to get into a relationship with you when I wasn't sure what exactly I want sexually, and you do. It's pretty confusing, actually."

Harry was surprised to hear these words come out of his mouth. He never thought he'd be having this conversation with Ron, at least not for a few more years. The idea had started out as a small whim, a random thought that passes through on its way to nonexistence. But it had persisted, becoming something Harry had been wondering about more & more. He had seen Molly giving him & Ron a fond look when they were close together, and more than once wondered if she was seeing something beyond the obvious.

"Confusing is the word for it! I don't know how to act around you, Harry, I don't want to make you feel awkward, and most of all I don't want our friendship to change. Though I suppose it already has, there's no getting around that..." Ron trailed off.

"Yeah, I suppose it has," mused Harry. "But friendships do change, look at you & Hermione."

"That was a mistake. I don't think she'll ever forgive me for running out, and I'm going to have to tell her about how I feel for you, I can't just keep that secret from her. If she still wants to be my friend, that is."

"Of course she still wants to be your friend! I'm not gonna lie, she's really disappointed in you & still pretty mad, but I know she'll get over it. She's assuming you're coming back & she's been preparing all the mean things she's going to say to you when you get back."

"Whatever it is, I'm sure I'll deserve it," said Ron.


	16. Dumbledore's Army

Dumbledore stood in front of the cupboard where Harry used to sleep, feeling an intense sadness along with a considerable amount of shame. So much of Harry's life had been dictated by Dumbledore's choices, and they hadn't all been good ones. His insistence that Harry stay with the Dursley's was one particularly bad choice. If he'd had any idea how badly they'd treat Harry he would have seriously reconsidered the whole plan. Of course, he knew Vernon & Petunia weren't particularly kind, intelligent, or generous. He'd heard from James about his & Lily's disastrous dinner with the Dursleys all those years ago. James spun it into quite a tale, it still brought a chuckle to Dumbledore's mind remembering how animated James was as he described Vernon as the greatest buffoon to ever plague England.

While he'd been aware they weren't necessarily good people, he didn't really know they were HORRIBLE people! The depths of their ignorance & selfishness was unfathomable. Dumbledore had always believed in the absolute worth of every human soul, and that every human life is worth exactly the same. It was one of the many reasons that the idea of Riddle splitting his soul seven times disturbed him so much.

Dumbledore's knowledge of how the Dursleys treated Harry called his beliefs into question. He had to consider, after hearing how they abused Harry, that they truly had no souls, no inherent worth. It made him so very, very sad to think that poor, dear Harry had to suffer these fools for 16 years. Yet suffer them he did, and managed to retain all of his inherent goodness. He was so much like Lily, it was true. He had her heart. It was a good thing, too, because the world could hardly withstand another James Potter!

Dumbledore's musings were interrupted by a quiet 'whooshing' sound through the hall. It was the sound that the spell concealing his presence in the Privet Drive house made as it was rolled back by use of a password, currently "lemon sherbet." Dumbledore turned from his reverie toward the front door, anxious to see Alastor again.

Moody stumped up to Dumbledore, just as grizzled as ever. Even his gnarled mug was a welcome sight, after so many weeks of isolation. With surprise, Dumbledore noticed a man behind Alastor.

"Sorry I didn't get a chance to warn you, but I brought somebody who's anxious to meet you, somebody you could trust with your life. Jim Barnes, Albus Dumbledore." The man held out his right hand, made of some metal Dumbledore couldn't identify. As Dumbledore shook it, he felt great strength held in check by equally great control. He also felt a slight tingle in his fingers at the touch of the metal. Curious....

"Call me Burns," the man said. "I've been wanting to meet you ever since last year."

"I am so grateful to meet you, so I can thank you in person for your assistance in spiriting me away from Hogwarts the night of my alleged death. I truly couldn't have done it without you. And I must say I'm absolutely amazed at what an incredible job you did. That doppelgänger was so convincing, I almost thought it was really me!"

"I'm so glad it worked. I think what you told Mad-Eye is right, that you'd serve the Wizarding community better from behind the scenes. This way you're not a target. By the way, nice digs!"

"Digs?" asked Dumbledore. "Living arrangement," provided Moody. "Oh, yes, it is a very comfortable house," continued Dumbledore. "Its former owners took excellent care of it. I feel absolutely safe here. You see, this is the house where Harry Potter grew up with his Muggle aunt. It's widely known that he left when he turned 17, and his aunt also moved at that time. So, you see, there is no reason for anybody to look for him here, making it the perfect place to hide."

"That's genius," said Burns. "As are the strategies you've been coming up with. Using Fleur to de-fund the Death Eaters through her banking connections is particularly good. Their disappearing bank accounts have definitely taken their attention off of looking for Harry. And the best part is, none of it gets traced back to the Order because Fleur hasn't changed her name to Weasley. The idiots haven't even considered that she might be connected to us! To them she's just that nice French lady who's the only person at Gringott's who will take their owls!"

"Plus the Death Eaters are starting to think that the Goblins are taking a stand against them, and the Goblins think the Death Eaters are trying to blame them for losing their Galleons!" added Moody. "They're paying so much attention to that, they've no idea how much ground they're losing."

"Ah, you bring good news today!" exclaimed Dumbledore. "How nice to hear we are finally making some headway!"

"Don't put on your sun bonnet just yet, Albus," said Moody, "we've had an old friend pop up recently. Peter Pettigrew. We have reason to believe he's found some way to track Potter."


	17. The Talk pt III

Hermione stood on a wooden platform, mist swirling around her feet. Her parents stood in front of her, holding her hands in theirs. They were saying something, but she couldn't hear what it was. The more she leaned in towards them, the further away they drifted. She watched them getting ever smaller in the fog. She could faintly hear her mom say her name, just her name - "Hermione." Her dad said it, "Hermione." They grew more distant with each whisper, until they were far enough away that Hermione could see they were standing on an island the shape of Australia, but barely big enough for the two of them. As they disappeared into the mist, Hermione could still hear them calling her name.

"Hermione."

Hermione....

"HERMIONE!!!"

She awoke with a start, tears in her eyes, to see Harry's face inches from her own, illuminated by the stub of a taper in an old tin candle holder. It was still dark outside. Her first feeling was relief; he must be waking her up for her shift guarding the locket. "I'm up, I'm up! Give me a minute! Your breath smells terrible Harry!"  
"You really are cross first thing in the morning, aren't you?" said a familiar voice behind Harry.  
Suddenly Hermione was wide awake. "RON!" She screamed. Leaping out of bed, she pushed Harry aside, ignoring his cries of indignation as he spilled hot wax onto his hand, and grabbed the front of Ron's jacket. She hugged him with all her might, then drew back and slapped him across his face.

"How-DARE-YOU-Ronald-Bilius-WEASLEY!!!" she yelled. "I thought you were DEAD! I thought you'd been CAUGHT! I thought, I thought...so many horrible things, Ron, HOW COULD YOU?!?!?"

"Hermione, I'm so..." began Ron.

"Oh, no, no, you don't get to apologize, Ronald Weasley, not until I've finished! Running out on us was the most cowardly thing you've ever done, and that's saying A LOT!"

"Hey, now, that's not fair..." interjected Ron.

"Fair? FAIR?!?" Hermione laughed, anger blazing in her eyes. "You want to talk about FAIR?? Ok let's talk about FAIR. How FAIR was it that you left Harry & I all alone, to fend for ourselves, while you ran around doing God knows what, you were probably back at the Burrow this whole time..."

"I wasn't back at the burrow," mumbled Ron.

"Quiet. How fair was it that we had no idea where you were, or how to contact you, and we knew you had no way to contact us?" Hermione's voice had lost its harsh anger, becoming pleading and vulnerable. 

Frankly, Ron preferred her angry.

"You abandoned us, Ronald Weasley. There's no other way to see it." Hermione's tone had grown icy cold. "Coward." The last word was said quietly, almost whispered, but with the potency of a scream.

Ron felt stricken. He'd known it was going to be hard to face Hermione, he knew she'd be angry. He didn't expect this, though. He had been held up to the light, and found to be flawed, stained, not good enough. It was irrevocable. He would have to leave for good.

"Well, at least I don't have to pack up, as I haven't unpacked yet." He hoisted his backpack to his shoulder, drooping in self-pity.

"Oh don't be ridiculous Ron! Haven't you learned anything? You're not leaving again! You're going to stay here, and we're going to work some things out. It's been due for a long time." Hermione gave Harry a significant look, and caught him having his own significant look with Ron.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

"Ron, you have to tell her."

Ron pointedly focused on a blueberry bush just behind Harry. It had several ripe, juicy-looking berries, but they were just out of reach. Ron wondered what the best way to get them might be.

"The longer you put it off, Ron, the harder it's going to be. You know that, don't you?"

Ron was wondering if a simple levitation charm would do the trick. Could he do it himself? Would he need another person to help guide him from the ground?

"Ron?"

Ron shook his head slightly, as if he just woke from a long sleep. "Sorry, I got distracted. Yeah, I know I have to tell her. I will. It's not easy though."

"It won't be easy going through the rest of your life with a flock of canaries pecking at you constantly, either, will it?"

Ron chuckled at the memory of Hermione's jealousy-prompted attack in their 6th year. "No, I can go the rest of my life without experiencing that again. Yeah, I'll tell her. But I'm not sure what to say. Just how do you tell your girlfriend that you're breaking up with her because you think you're in love with your best friend?"

"You just did," came an icy voice from behind a large beech tree.


	18. The Break-Up

"Hermione, I'm so sorry."

Ron hung his head in an effort to hide the big, fat tear that was running along his nose. He sniffed loudly, then turned his back on Hermione. He'd never felt more ashamed of himself.

"I'm sorry too. You lied to me, Ron, about something so important, well, it's one of the most important things there is." Surprisingly, Hermione's voice was devoid of anger; she had taken on the patient, calm tone she used when trying to explain Ron & Harry's homework assignments. "You lied to me about your heart. I gave you MY heart based on that lie. That's so...it's so...Ron, it's just...you can't DO that. You've no idea what I've gone through since I puzzled it out."

"Well maybe you should have told ME," said Ron. "I didnt know 'til last night."

"That's not true, Ron, and you know it. You've had feelings for Harry for years. You've just been in denial. I've seen how you look at him, and then turn away when he looks back at you. All the signs were there, and you just refused to see them."

"It's not like I did it on purpose, you know. I never meant to hurt you, Hermione, I think that's part of why I didn't deal with my feelings."

"But, Ron, you see, that's where your cowardice lies. YOU DIDN'T WANT TO FACE IT, so you took the path of least resistance. I don't blame you, Ron. I know you can't help the way you feel, and I understand that you weren't ready to come to terms with it. But, Ron, you WERE aware that there was a problem, and you CHOSE not to address it. I don't blame you, but I do hold you responsible. Your choices had a cost, Ron, for me as well as you. In the process of trying to protect me, you ended up hurting me far worse. If you'd told me you were in love with Harry when we were back in school, if it came DIRECTLY from you, it would have devastated me. I'd have been wrecked, Ron, but I'd have gotten over it. You can't help who you are, and you can't help how you feel. But you can help what you do about it. If you'd just been honest, Ron, I'd be able to trust you as I always have. Now, well, I just don't know."

"Oh, come on, Hermione, that's not fair. This is the only thing I've EVER lied to you about. And I had reasons. You said it yourself."

Ron took a deep breath, steeling himself for his next words. He swallowed dryly, then said, "I know I lied to you. And I understand that was a choice. I really, really am sorry Hermione. It was cowardly. But I promise, I'll never lie to you again. Never."

Hermione considered this for several minutes. "Thank you, Ron. I know you're sincere, and that means a lot. But I can't just decide I'm going to trust someone, even though I know your intentions are good. It's going to take time, Ron, and there are other things we need to work out. It's not going to be easy."

"I understand. Just give me a chance, Hermione, I'll show you that you can trust me."

Hermione made a "hmmm" sound in the back of her throat, then gave a little nod; it was a gesture she often used when she transitioned from her current train of thought to a new one. "Harry, I suppose we shouldn't let Ron guard the locket, for whatever reason it affects him more than it does us. But my turn must be long overdue, here, give it to me."

With a smile, Harry handed over the twisted, blackened remains of Slytherin's locket. It still smelled faintly of sulfur. "Oh yeah, we didn't tell you, Ron destroyed it last night."

"WHAT?!?" exploded Hermione. "How did he manage that?"

"With this," Ron said triumphantly, holding up the sword of Gryffindor.

The back of Hermione's head made a loud BANG! as it hit the floor of the tent.

\----------------------------------------  
Burns was uneasy. His spy had been due to return by 8pm sharp, but it was now midnight with no sign of her. He worried every time she went out on a mission. She was smart, far more intelligent than most people realized. She was also exceptionally talented. She had been trained by the best Auror to wave a wand, and she was more than competent to complete her mission safely. 

Burn knew he had no reason to worry about Tonks' safety. Still, he did, getting a rather unpleasant sensation in his stomach until she returned every time she went undercover. The task she had taken on was dangerous. It was likely the most dangerous job Tonks had ever done. He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to her.

By 12:45, Burns gave up his anxious vigil. Though his feeling of unease had evolved into the first stage of panic, he knew better than to let it get the better of him. Though Tonks had several methods of contacting him when she was on the job, sometimes she wasn't in a position to use them without blowing her cover. There were a great many possibilities that explained why she hadn't returned or contacted him, and death was only one among many chances.

Her assignment was very, very difficult. She was tracking Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and fending off any who would try to harm him. There were far more dangers around the three than they realized. Apparently, Hermione was unaware that apparition left a very distinctive magical reside, a sort of metaphysical 'hole' in the fabric of reality. Within an hour or two this hole closed on its own, and as Muggles & most magical folk couldn't see it, the knowledge of this energy signature was no more than a piece of trivia for those wizards curious enough to study the deeper lore of magical history.

To see this hole required a rather complicated spell that had almost fallen out of knowledge through lack of usefulness. Only an advanced wizard or witch could complete the spell with the precision required to make the hole visible. Once it was, looking like a roiling thundercloud, the wizard who cast the spell could enter the cloud and apparate, allowing the cloud to bring them to the exact spot where the people being tracked had apparated to.

Though this spell had almost fallen out of knowledge, there were still a handful of magical folk who were aware of this phenomena. Unfortunately one of them was a Death Eater, who was able to teach the spell to enough Death Eaters & their associates to keep the Order of the Phoenix on the run.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------  
For most of this war, the Order had been winning. The Death Eaters did a fair job of keeping their pureblood supporters from knowing how dire the situation was, but it really had been desperate for awhile. Rowle and Dolohov were MIA. They had managed to find Harry when he used Voldemort's name, and apparated to his location. They never returned. There was no sign of them, and they didn't respond when Voldemort activated their dark marks. Most of the other Death Eaters presumed them dead. Lucius had a way of knowing when one of their side died, but he'd never reported the two as deceased.

The Lestrange brothers were useless, their brains scrambled by Neville Longbottom while they patrolled the corridors of Hogwarts on Snape's orders. Bellatrix was out of commission; nobody knew where she was. Like Dolohov & Rowle, there were no indications she had died, and nobody had received a message from her. It was quite a blow to Voldemort's cause; she'd been high in his confidence, and was one of the most formidable duelists they had. Not to mention, nobody could match her dedication to the cause, the absolute ferocity with which she fought to defend her Lord & Master. 

For some reason, Voldemort didn't seem too concerned with Bella's absence. To be honest, he didn't seem too concerned with anything these days. Nobody had heard from him, not for months. The remnants of the Voldemort's inner circle were left to fend for themselves. That became much more difficult after the pureblood supporters of Voldemort started losing their money. One day they were rich, the next day they were completely broke. The The Gringotts goblins' ledgers showed a zero balance for their accounts. So far they'd had no success getting their fortunes restored. The goblins trusted the absolute, unquestionable accuracy of these ledgers. They were like sacred texts to them, any questioning of their truth was akin to heresy. The Death Eaters strongly suspected the Order were behind it all, but weren't able to prove it.

When Burns joined the Death Eaters, using the name Lesch, things began to improve drastically. He was an excellent organizer, and a born leader. He was patient, but firm. He had high expectations for the Death Eaters, and they had met or exceeded them all. It was as if they were a bunch of nails waiting for a hammer to come along.

As the Death Eaters became more organized and more competent, Burns was steadily directing them away from Harry. The job was made much easier through Hermione's talents. Her concealment charms were strong, and the combination of simple spells layered over one another did a good job of keeping them undercover. Also, a few times Tonks had apparated to a location away from the trio, laying a false trail for the Death Eaters to trace & drawing them away from Harry's location.

For some strange reason, though, Hermione insisted on wearing the same Muggle perfume every day. It made them much easier to track, as it wasn't a fragrance that witches wore. It resembled no smell that occurred in the natural world, and once you first smelled it, you could recognize it straightaway whenever it was present.

Fortunately, Tonks had a remarkable sense of smell. She could detect Hermione's perfume from about a mile away, and often picked up on subtle clues that others missed. As long as the Golden Trio stayed in the same location for at least a day, Tonks was able to find them. If they were in one place for less than a day, the job became much more difficult. Still, Tonk was always able to catch up to them eventually. 

Though the three didn't seem to realize it, they had come very close to capture a number of times. Snatchers were numerous, and desperate to bring in errant witches & wizards. Almost all of them came from poor backgrounds, and Snatching paid very well. They'd go to remarkable lengths to bring in strays, and they roamed the countryside in greater numbers than most wizards realized. Unbeknown to most, only about a quarter of Wizarding families sent their children to Hogwarts, the rest either homeschooled their children, or didn't bother educating them at all. Most of the Snatchers came from these ranks. 

Everywhere Harry and his friends went, they came dangerously close to Snatchers. Tonks had stunned, confunded, and even battled Snatchers in every location the Trio camped. It wasn't impossible to detect the presence of concealment charms, and there were a few Snatchers who were able to do it. They were currently down one, as Tonks had performed a memory charm on him that made him believe he was a Muggle. It would wear off...eventually...probably....


	19. THE FUTURE

"My Lord, it's time," gasped Bellatrix Lestrange, grasping her distended stomach in both hands. Beads of sweat stood out on her pale skin. Hollow eyes stared out of a listless face.

Tom sighed loudly, turning from the documents laid out on Lucius' massive dining room table. His red eyes bored into Bella's dark ones. Using Legilimency, he was able to see that her labor pains were genuine, not just a ploy to escape.

Bella was at Malfoy Manor against her will, bearing a child she never wanted to a man who terrified her. She had been made to participate in a magical ceremony that left a nearly identical clone of Lord Voldemort in her womb, with a few key differences. She had participated without resistance, even though the last thing she wanted was to be mother to Lord Voldemort's daughter. She'd known there was no point to fighting it, she'd only make things worse for herself. She'd seen what Lord Voldemort could do. He killed on a whim, murdering wizards who merely annoyed him. Then there were the Muggles.

Lord Voldemort had a particular hatred of Muggles, especially Muggle children. Growing up in Wool's Orphanage, Tom Riddle saw the worst of humanity at a very young age. You had to be tough to survive and immensely strong to emerge unscathed. The orphanage was a nearly perfect microcosm of society at large, the main difference being the complete lack of hope in Wool's children. There were predators, there was prey, but there was no shelter from the hunt. 

Tom had been a timid child by nature, and small for his age. His most remarkable feature was his large, dark brown eyes. They took in everything while giving nothing back but a small hint of sadness. It made his face handsome yet strange, and it made him a target of the older boys in the orphanage. They saw weakness in those large eyes. To those predatory boys, Tom was a small quivering rabbit to be hunted down and captured. He learned, quickly, how to make himself less conspicuous, diverting attention and slipping away when the opportunity presented itself. He knew, since he wasn't strong, that he'd need to use his mind to stay one step ahead of the older boys.

Tom Riddle was seven when he first consciously used magic. An older boy had cornered him with an evil gleam in his eyes. Tom's liquid brown eyes stared back into his. The boy shuddered, and fell to the floor with blood trickling from his nose. Doctors said he had suffered massive brain damage and was lucky to be alive. Tom claimed the older boy had fallen & hit his head. The excuse was accepted without question despite the fact that the boys had been on soft grass during the encounter. It was easer to just cart the other boy off to a sanitarium than question an explanation that made sense.

Tom felt a thrill run down his spine when he realized that he'd brought down his enemy using just his mind. Finally, here was the advantage he badly needed to survive! He learned to hone his abilities and direct them to do his will. He progressed at an alarming rate, especially considering he had no contact with the magical world, and no wand. 

Though he didn't know it at the time he was breaking magical law by using magic in the presence of Muggles. Because his mother had brought infant Tom to the orphanage right after his birth the Ministry of Magic had no record of his existence. Not knowing of his existence, the Ministry didn't put Tom under the Trace spell required of all infants before their first birthday. Occasionally Magical Law Enforcement were able to detect that magic was being used in the area of the orphanage It was a busy part of London, so Ministry officials dismissed it as probably the work of unknown magical folk travelling through that area. As long as nobody reported magic being performed in sight of Muggles they didn't worry about it.

By the time he turned ten most of the other children had the good sense to be afraid of Tom Riddle. The incident in the cave with Amy and Dennis ensured that none of the other children would even consider crossing him.

Being feared was one of the few things that left Tom feeling fulfilled. He evolved so far past the desire for things of the physical realm - food, sex, sleep, comfort - that he didn't even remember what it was like to want them. Power was nice, power was WONDERFUL, but it was ultimately a means to an end. Power, secured by fear, would enable Lord Voldemort to carry out the worst of his plans.

Tom planned to rid the world of Muggles, except for some who might prove useful to wizards, within his lifetime. He saw them as vermin. He killed Muggles indiscriminately, all the time. He often said the difference between himself & Grindelwald was that Grindelwald wanted to rule the Muggle world. Voldemort wanted to exterminate it.

So far they had waged a pretty effective covert war of terror on Muggle society. They brought bridges down while they were heavily laden with rush hour traffic. They blew up a number of churches, burned down a school, collapsed a hospital full of Muggles. It was very effective as far as it went. Muggles were beside themselves with fear and trepidation, wondering what catastrophe would befall them next.

It wasn't enough for Lord Voldemort, not nearly enough. He didn't just want them afraid. To inspire fear in wizards could be useful, to inspire fear in Muggles was completely pointless. While their technology had indeed advanced at an astonishing rate Muggles had seemingly gone backwards in other areas. Tom wouldn't be surprised if some of them still threw rocks at the Moon to keep it from attacking them.

No, it wasn't quite enough to scare a few of those cockroaches back into their crevices, Tom wanted carnage on a massive scale. He realized that it was impossible to kill literally every Muggle on Earth, but Tom intended to come as close as possible. He'd keep just enough around to do the menial tasks Wizards required of them and the rest would go. Wizards and witches would dominate as it always should have been.

Once the Muggles had been exterminated and Wizard society had become the norm, Voldemort planned to lead the Wizarding World into a bright future where nobody would ever have to hide their magic again. Wizards would do much better at running the world than Muggles had, Voldemort was certain of that. With his daughter at his side there was no telling how far the Wizarding world could advance its magic.

Bella's loud moan broke through Lord Voldemort's reverie, reminding him that this most crucial part of his plan was about to get underway. Narcissa had already entered the room. She must have some sort of magical connection to Bellatrix that let her know when her sister needed her. Narcissa went straight to Bella, helping her up onto the bed she had conjured in the dining room. Lord Voldemort looked on impassively, appearing to have very little interest in the process of preparing Bella for childbirth.

In truth, his insides were roiling. He was the only one who knew how much was at stake, and how badly things could go wrong. While his daughter was in Bellatrix's body, she wasn't biologically related to Bella at all. She was a product of pure magic, created from Tom's DNA, modified a bit but still almost identical to Lord Voldemort on the genetic level. It was a magical process Voldemort invented himself; this was the first time he had attempted it. If it worked it would ensure that Lord Voldemort would rule the Magical community forever. As long as each descendant repeated the process to create an heir there was no limit to how long he could control the Wizarding World.

It could all go wrong so easily! Though nobody knew it but himself (and possibly Dumbledore, the insufferable bastard) Tom's father had been a Muggle. Tom had no way to know if the genetic material he'd provided for the spell could result in an heir with no magical ability. Technically, it shouldn't matter much to his plans if the heir didn't inheirit Tom's magic. He'd just dispose of the faulty clone and start over again. It might slow him down but it wouldn't stop him.

Tom didn't know if he could endure the scorn he knew his inner circle would have for him if he failed at this most crucial task. It would make everybody question the limits of Tom's power, and he couldn't have that. Tom was well aware that cracks in the facade would only get bigger & spread the longer they were left alone. The irony of Lord Voldemort producing a Squib was just too irresistible to stay contained.  
\--------------  
Bellatrix was lying in what was, no doubt, the most comfortable hospital bed in creation. Narcissa really did have a remarkable collection of furniture. She'd inherited the bulk of the Black furniture, mainly all of the pieces that they couldn't fit into Grimmauld Place when Druella Black grew tired of living in a huge mansion all by herself and moved to the small London home.

Narcissa was at Bella's side, one hand resting on her belly, the other pointing her wand at her sister's stomach. She was muttering a series of incomprehensible words. Bella suspected they were Dark Magic spells as it usually proved much more effective for situations like this than Light Magic would have. Bella felt a warmth flow through her abdomen, and her pain slowly drained away until she was fully relaxed.

Once she saw that Bella was ready, Cissa started the spells that would bring the baby out of Bella's uterus. It was basically a form of apparition but it had to be done very, very carefully to prevent harm to the infant. One poorly pronounced word in the spell, one sloppy wand movement, could spell tragedy. This could not fail. Both Bella and Cissy were well aware that if they didn't end the night with a perfect, magical, healthy baby, they would count themselves lucky to simply die. There were much worse things in the world than dying.


	20. THE CAPTURE  Pt. II

Tonks was cold, damp, hungry, and tired. She'd been crouching in the same position for over two hours, watching the area where she believed Harry's tent was pitched. She was usually pretty good at determining its location, though twice she had sat watch for hours only to hear the trio disapparating from a different location. That was demoralizing.

As she often did while keeping vigil, she considered the possibility of joining the three. Of course it wasn't her job, and Mad Eye had warned that she could compromise the kids' safety by approaching them. There was always a chance that a snatcher or Death Eater was surveying or tracking her, and she couldn't find her way to the tent without betraying her location. Still, it couldn't be more than a small risk, and it could potentially pay off with heat, food, and a decent loo. Tonks was resilient, but living without a proper toilet really was roughing it.

Tonks was startled by the sound of something crashing through the forest. Her heart leapt into her throat as she jumped to her feet and assumed a dueling stance. She saw a young woman with long wavy brown hair carelessly stumbling through the underbrush while making audible sniffing sounds. She was waving both hands in front of her. Soon her hands found their target, and she promptly disappeared from sight. Heedless of betraying her position, Tonks ran after the girl, also waving her hands in front of her trying to catch the edge of the tent. Her hand found the edge of the canvas; as soon as she touched it the tent came into view.

Hermione and the young woman turned sharply, relief etched across Hermione's face when she realized who had just appeared. "Tonks! How on earth did you find us??" She had one arm around the other young woman, who was crying. Harry came out of the tent, and Ron's head peeked out of the opening.

"First thing's first, Hermione. Who's your friend?"

"This is Olivia Wood. She was just here with us yesterday. Where's Seamus, Olivia?"

"That's the thing, Hermione, I don't know! I think he's been grabbed by Snatchers! We saw a few while we were looking for a place to camp. We split up and started to run. One of them went after Seamus, another came after me. I didn't see where Seamus went, but I heard him scream, oh Hermione, I think they've got him! I managed to lose mine, and I apparated to the last place we'd been which was just a few feet from here. I found it because I could smell your perfume. I'm so glad you haven't left yet, oh Hermione, what are we going to DO?!?"

"Calm down, Olivia, come here, it's going to be ok," said Hermione, as she pulled Olivia into a full embrace. "You're safe now. Since you apparated away, they can't follow you."

"Yes they can."

"Beg pardon?"

Tonks looked grim. "They can, Hermione, they can track us when we apparate. We have to get ready and GO, they could be here any minute!" Ron came out of the tent with a panicked look on his face, then turned around & went back in. Harry and Hermione started getting the campsite ready to leave immediately. "No, Harry, Hermione, we don't have time! We need to go NOW!" She gathered Harry, Hermione, and Olivia to her, and held a hand out towards Ron who had again peeked his head out of the tent.

At that moment a loud CRACK rang through the forest. Three Snatchers appeared a few feet from the tent, hands spread out to feel for the canvas. It didn't take long before they found it & were able to see the tent and its occupants. As Hermione saw the first one grab the edge of the tent, she closed her eyes & prepared for apparition. She was startled to hear a deep voice coming from Tonks, who was standing next to Hermione. When Hermione opened her eyes, instead of Tonks she saw a squat man with sparse, gray hair, a pointy face, and a metal hand.

"I'm getting the reward for these three," said Peter Pettigrew.


End file.
